Chapter 6

Chapter Six

"You say this Tara person showed up a full day ahead of schedule? Why is she here? For the preliminary legwork or something?" A potent mix of disbelief and shock swirled in Greg Thomas's voice.

"It sounds as though she's handling the entire review." With the phone pressed against his ear, Jason flicked one end of the pen lying on his desk. Tip, clicker, tip, clicker. The pen spun in a dizzying circle.

"Ms. Charm, when will she arrive, then?"

"I don't think she's coming." Jason resisted the urge to sigh. In the past fifteen minutes, he and the mayor had covered this ground twice already.

"At all?"

"That's what I've been trying to tell you." Jason brushed his fingers through hair that would be due for a trim soon. His plan to catch the mayor up on all that had transpired since Tara's unexpected appearance in his office yesterday kept wandering from the script. The man stubbornly clung to the original plan. "Regina begged off. The person she sent instead—Tara Stewart—seems nice enough. She's sharp as a tack and has done her research. She knows more about Heart's Landing than she lets on."

The mayor sneezed. "Excuse me. Allergies. The wife and I spent yesterday picking blackberries." The conversation waited a beat while Greg gave his nose a noisy blow. "What do you think is going on?"

"I'm not sure. If I had to guess, I'd say things could go one of two ways. According to Ms. Stewart, Regina Charm feared that her own experience here in Heart's Landing might cloud her opinion and she is simply giving us the best chance by sending someone impartial in her place."

"But you don't think that's it?"

An uncomfortable feeling stirred in Jason's gut. Someone at Regina's level should be able to set aside her own prejudices. Since she hadn't, it seemed far more likely that she'd tasked some innocent young reporter, like Tara, with carrying out her own agenda. Whatever that might be. "I wish I could say I didn't have my doubts."

"Humph," said the mayor, finally coming around to accept the situation. "I do, too. It'd be bad enough if our ranking slipped. We'd really take a hit if Ms. Stewart goes on the attack."

"Tell me about it." He knew perfectly well what was at stake. Not that he thought for a moment that Tara, with her guileless smile and clear blue eyes, would deliberately set out to destroy the reputation of a town she'd never stepped foot in before yesterday.

"Well, how'd things go? You and she got along, didn't you? Do you think we can trust her?"

"It's hard to tell." Jason refused to sugar-coat things. "We only spent a few hours together. I gave her an in-depth tour of the Cottage. Her response was pretty positive." To be honest, Tara's reaction had been more enthusiastic than he'd have expected if she'd been sent here to do a hatchet job. "She seemed genuinely interested in the Cottage's history. We might have something in common there." As a child, he'd spent many a snowy winter's day hidden away in the attic, poring through the Captain's journals and logs. He'd imagined himself on the deck of the Mary Shelby , battling pirates off the coast and sailing his ship safely through storms and calm seas. In his teens, he'd worked alongside his dad, restoring floors and wainscoting, learning how to preserve the house he'd inherited far sooner than anyone expected. He'd minored in Early American History at college, and it was rare that he didn't read a chapter or two of some historical treatise before he turned out the lights.

"So you think she's telling the truth? Oh, hold on a sec."

Jason held the earpiece away from his head while the mayor cleared his throat.

"Okay. You were saying?"

"It's a little too early for me to answer that. I barely know the woman." If the mayor wanted someone to offer some insight into what made Tara Stewart tick, he was asking the wrong person. After all, Jason had known Clarissa for more than two years. Yet her betrayal had still blindsided him. He'd do well to keep from making that mistake again, for all their sakes.

"After the tour, what did she do?"

"She was intrigued by the library." The Captain's Cottage maintained a fine collection of early editions by American authors. Occasionally, one of their guests would suffer a bout of insomnia and wander downstairs in the middle of the night. The next morning, the staff sometimes found them curled up in one of the Queen Anne chairs with an aged copy of Little Women or Emerson's Essays in their lap.

"You didn't take her out to dinner? Did you have other plans?"

"I offered. She declined," he answered shortly. The nerve of Greg, thinking he wouldn't properly care for a guest in his house, whether she showed up a day early or not.

"Don't get your feathers in a dander. I didn't mean to imply anything. My head feels like it's full of cotton."

Jason took a breath. "Sorry. Guess I'm more on edge about this than I thought." He gave his pen another push and watched it spin. The next week was bound to take a toll on everyone in town. He'd do well to keep that in mind. "The rain was coming down pretty hard about then, and she said she'd rather not venture out. We ordered in from Bow Tie Pasta." Known for its fine Italian cuisine, the restaurant had delivered enough lasagna, penne, and salad for an army. "Evelyn set everything up buffet-style in the dining room. We looked over the agenda while we ate and made a few adjustments." Tara's early arrival meant shifting the schedule forward a day. Afterward, she hadn't lingered, but had retreated to the library. She was still reading when he'd gone upstairs.

"I knew we could count on you, Jason. Now, what about today?"

He glanced at the old ship's clock on the bookcase. "She told Evelyn she had work to do this morning and would be down around ten. You're on tap to take her into town and introduce her to a few people."

"I'd planned to drop in on Forget Me Knot, I Do Cakes, and The Memory Box and introduce her to Mildred, Nick, and Helen. They're expecting us."

Greg had chosen wisely. Although they relied on everyone in the village to do their part, Jason and the mayor, along with those three prominent business owners, had spearheaded the efforts to retain the town's number-one ranking.

"But that was supposed to be on Saturday. I'm not sure I can get away from the shop today. What about the others?"

"Evelyn let them know about the change in schedule last night. They're fine." When Greg remained hesitant, he asked, "Is there a problem?"

"It's the Smith wedding. The bride is coming in this morning. She's decided she wants a different option for the vests. It'll take the better part of the morning for me to reorder." In addition to his duties as mayor, Greg owned Tux or Tails, the area's best tuxedo shop.

Jason called up the Cottage's master calendar. "That's awfully late notice." Featuring six bridesmaids and an equal number of groomsmen, the Smith wedding was one of a dozen- plus ceremonies that would take place in the mansion during Tara's stay in Heart's Landing. He rubbed his forehead and ran through a limited set of options. They couldn't very well leave Tara to her own devices this early in the game. Someone would need to show her around town, introduce her to all the right people, and make sure she felt welcome. It was equally important that every detail of the Smith wedding be handled perfectly, doubly so since Tara's engraved invitation to the event sat on his desk.

"It's fine," he said, instantly adjusting his own schedule for the day. "I'll go into town with her. If you finish up and can meet with us for lunch, that'd be great."

"We have one o'clock reservations at the White Dove Deli. I'll do my best to be there."

Whatever. In a town that prided itself on delivering the perfect wedding for every bride, Greg had his priorities straight. While the mayor took care of business, Jason would do his best to find out more about their mysterious visitor and whether or not she was lying to them all.

Heaven. She'd died and gone to heaven. Yesterday's delay while housekeeping had prepped her suite had been worth every minute. The staff had thought of everything, from designer soaps and lotions to a selection of snacks in the mini-fridge beneath the wet bar.

Tara pulled the Egyptian cotton up around her neck and ran a languid hand over the soft sheets. Scads of comfy pillows and a mattress that was sheer perfection had provided her with a solid six hours of deep, dreamless sleep. A definite improvement over the thin, fitful nights she spent in the city, where taxi horns peppered the air, even in her fifth-floor walk-up, and her neighbor played his sax into the wee hours on the fire escape. No wonder she never quite felt rested there. Unlike here, where she ought to be exhausted after traveling all day, traipsing all over the Captain's Cottage, and working in the library until well past midnight.

When Regina had suggested she go through Captain Thaddeus's ship's logs with a fine-toothed comb, she hadn't realized it'd be such a massive undertaking. The good captain had worked the trade routes between Europe and the Americas for well over a decade and recorded something about every one of his days at sea. Last night, she'd managed to read only a single year's worth of entries. While she'd been able to skim past routine reports on the day's rations and weather or the status of the heart he was carving for his wife, she'd become engrossed by a few events. Like the day the Mary Shelby had happened upon a pod of blue whales a hundred miles off the coast. The gentle giants had entertained the crew for hours before diving deep and swimming away. Storms and rain squalls had buffeted the ship often enough that they'd hardly required a mention. But every once in a while, the tri-mast ran afoul of a monstrous storm. Captain Thaddeus had been quick to give his crew credit for furling the sails and comporting themselves well during those harried days. She thought she might rather like him, if he were still alive.

Had Jason inherited his ancestor's strength of character? His drive?

The man was certainly the spitting image of his great-great-great-grandfather. Granted, she didn't know everything there was to know about Jason Heart. But she liked what she'd learned about him during the few hours they'd spent together. He radiated charm and good manners. Well educated, he'd spent years preparing himself for the daunting task of running the Captain's Cottage. His loyalty to Heart's Landing was one of his most endearing qualities, but more than that, he had a sense of place, of family, that was rare in this day and age of mobile-everything. If he'd lived in New York, he was the kind of man she'd be interested in getting to know better. But he didn't. For the short time she'd be here, she'd have to ignore the warmth she felt every time she thought of him.

Other things weren't as easy to overlook. Like the way her shoulders and chest tightened whenever she considered how her success might impact the Captain's Cottage—and the rest of Heart's Landing. If there was one thing she hated about her assignment, that was it. Yet she couldn't fail. Couldn't walk away from the job, no matter who got hurt. Regina had given her one opportunity to prove herself. She had to succeed now that she finally had a chance to become a real journalist—the one thing she had her heart set on doing.

Every entry she'd read in the captain's logs so far supported Heart's Landing's claim that the town was built on true love. But there had to be something in the diaries and journals to disprove that story. She simply had to find it, and she would. Maybe as soon as today.

Dressed for the day in slacks and one of her favorite tops, she slipped on a pair of walking shoes and followed the scent of fresh-brewed coffee down the staircase. Brides and their families occupied several of the tables in the dining room. She chose an out-of-the-way seat in a corner. Once her laptop booted up, the internet service proved every bit as reliable as Jason had sworn it would be, and soon, the first of her daily reports was winging its way through cyberspace to Regina.

Her first task complete, she helped herself from urns that offered a variety of beverage choices. Sipping excellent coffee, she sorted through her inbox until she reached an email from Van. Her hand shook as she read the news that one of the hardest-working interns had been let go without a reference after incurring their boss's wrath over a minor matter. Her stomach tightened. Regina had made it very plain that she'd suffer the same fate if she failed to dig up some dirt on Captain Thaddeus.

Deciding that the situation at work warranted a second cup of coffee, she logged off. At the buffet, she surveyed a tantalizing array of breakfast foods while she refilled her cup. She was still debating between a yummy-looking egg dish and sweet rolls when a low murmur drifted in from the hall. Seconds later, Jason rounded the corner with two women close on his heels. The trio made a beeline for her.

"Good morning. Did you enjoy your first night in the Captain's Cottage?" Jason lifted a mug from the stand. "Is there anything you need to make your stay more enjoyable?"

Tara sipped her coffee while he fixed his. "Not a thing," she answered honestly. "I can't imagine a lovelier place for a bride and groom to spend their wedding night. You've really thought of everything."

"That's wonderful to hear," the dark-haired woman beside Jason put in.

Jason cleared his throat. "Tara, this is Alicia Thorn, the Cottage's event coordinator. Alicia, Tara Stewart. Alicia knows all about the weddings we'll be hosting here this week. You've been invited to most of them. I thought she might be able to help you select the ones you'd like to attend."

"It's nice to meet you, Alicia." Tara extended a hand. "Jason and Evelyn have had very nice things to say about you." She eyed the woman who'd been in charge when Regina's wedding had fallen apart. The white streaks that salted her otherwise dark hair and the laugh lines carved into her cheeks gave her a seasoned, experienced look. The flattering top she wore over navy blue slacks and low-heeled pumps completed an outfit that was both professional and approachable.

"We're thrilled to have you here, Ms. Stewart."

"Tara, please," she corrected, noting the warmth in Alicia's firm grip. "My mom is the only Ms. Stewart in our family."

"Tara." Even white teeth showed in Alicia's smile. "And this is Jennifer Bell." She turned to a petite brunette who had doe-like eyes. "Jenny is my right hand. If you need anything while you're here, one of us will be happy to get it for you."

"You must be the newlywed Evelyn mentioned," Tara said, recognizing the name. "Congratulations!"

"That's sweet of you, Tara. Welcome to Heart's Landing." Jenny shuffled a stack of embossed card stock. "The Captain's Cottage hosts ceremonies every day of the week, but as you can imagine, the schedule gets a bit hectic on the weekends. We thought, if it was all right with you, we'd sort through these wedding invitations over breakfast. Between us, Alicia and I can fill you in on the size of the guest lists and the brides' themes, and point out any items of particular interest."

"That works for me," Tara agreed, setting aside her plan to spend the morning in the library. The opportunity to talk with Alicia and Jenny was too good to pass up. She didn't add that she'd be keeping a sharp lookout for problems. Or that, from what Regina had told her, there were bound to be plenty.

"We have fourteen weddings scheduled here this week." Alicia took a plate from the buffet and served herself as she spoke. "They range from a small affair at the gazebo for family and a few guests one evening to the Garrison wedding on Saturday. That bride has chosen a tropical theme you might enjoy. Then, there's the Smith wedding in the Green Room next Wednesday. Jason and Evelyn will perform as Captain Thaddeus and Mary for over three hundred guests."

Tara stole a quick glance at Jason, her stomach giving a happy shimmy when she imagined him dressed as the seafaring captain. His height alone gave him a commanding presence. Decked out in all the trappings of his famous ancestor, he'd make an imposing figure.

"Don't forget Bessie Glover's ceremony."

Tara threw a net over thoughts that had swerved off-course. Regina hadn't sent her here to daydream about handsome sailors. She'd been sent to dig up dirt on Heart's Landing. With a renewed determination to uncover all she could about what went on behind the scenes in the Captain's Cottage, Tara fixed her focus on Jenny.

"Her nieces will be the flower girls, and they're just adorable."

Nieces. Flower girls. Right.

Over a breakfast casserole her father would have been proud to serve in his Savannah restaurant, she listened while Alicia and Jenny provided insights into a dozen or so ceremonies. The more the women talked, the more impressed Tara grew at the planning that had gone into each event. Alicia, especially, seemed so prepared that Tara found herself questioning how Regina's wedding could have gone awry. As she chose three of the ceremonies to attend, she eyed the older woman over her coffee cup. She couldn't help but wonder if there was another side to Regina's story, and considered asking about it. When Jason casually pushed away from the table, though, she put her questions on hold for the time being.

"Whenever you're ready, I'll take you into town, introduce you to some of the key members of our business community," he offered.

Spending time with Jason sounded a whole lot better than discussing her boss's ill-fated wedding plans. She closed her notebook and smiled at the tall man beside her. "I'd like that. I want to visit a few of the shops and get a feel for what makes Heart's Landing such a popular place."

"We're all set, then? Meet here in …" Jason waited for her answer.

"Five minutes?" she said, filling in the blank. "I just need to grab my camera and drop my laptop off in my room." She glanced down, surprised to see that while they'd talked, she'd cleaned her plate.

"Terrific." Jason grabbed his phone from the table. "I'll wait for you in the foyer. If you'll excuse me, I'll let everyone know we're on our way." Their eyes met as he stood. For a long second, he lingered, his phone in his hand. Just when Tara was going to ask if he needed something else, he pressed the device to his ear and strode from the room.

Ten minutes later, Jason escorted her to a serviceable town car parked under the porte cochere. "We'll start with a visit to one of my favorite places in Heart's Landing, Forget Me Knot Flowers on Bridal Carriage. For over forty years, the shop has been a mainstay for brides who want only the best."

Tara bit back a smile. Jason didn't know it, but their first stop was sure to point out one of Heart's Landing's flaws. It'd be difficult for any florist, no matter how long they'd been around, to compete with New York's flower district. At least once a week, she rose early and roamed up and down the aisles, choosing an exotic orchid for a friend's birthday one time, assembling a bouquet of freshly picked wildflowers to brighten her cubicle at work another. So far from the hustle and bustle of the big city, she doubted Heart's Landing could even offer half as many choices.

Her conviction suffered a minor setback a few minutes later, however, when she stepped beneath a rose-colored awning. She whipped out her camera, unable to pass up the chance to capture one of the prettiest table settings she'd ever seen. In the display window, floral swags created curtains around an elegant centerpiece that dripped orchids on satin ribbons from a stunning arrangement of ivory roses, hydrangeas, and wispy baby's breath. From an open doorway came the heady scent of flowers and greenery.

Tara took a deep breath. Somewhere in the mix, she caught the sweet, sweet smell of hyacinth. The flowers grew everywhere in Savannah, and a wave of homesickness swept over her. How many Saturday afternoons had she and her mom spent on their knees in the flower beds around their home? Back then, she'd complained about the late-summer sun that had beaten down on her while she worked fresh compost into the soil, dug holes, and planted bulbs pointy-side up. But it had been worth every bit of effort when the hyacinths bloomed in the spring. Now, with Jason trailing in her wake, she followed their scent, wandering an aisle crowded with beautiful arrangements until she reached the counter where her favorite flower bloomed in clay pots.

"I'm Mildred Morey. Welcome to Forget Me Knot Flowers." Her silvery hair shining, a woman wearing a green apron over a rounded middle stepped forward. "It's such an honor to welcome you to Heart's Landing."

Tara wrenched her gaze from the flowers that reminded her so much of home. "You have a beautiful shop, Ms. Morey."

"All my friends call me Mildred. I hope you will, too." A pleased smile played about the owner's lips. "As for Forget Me Knot, we do our best to give every bride her dream wedding. Flowers play a huge role in her special day."

Tara whipped out her notebook. She refused to let herself get so taken in by the cuteness of the shop that she forgot what she'd come here to accomplish. She glanced over a list of questions Regina had provided. "If I was planning a wedding, what could I expect you to do for me?"

Mildred maintained a steady smile while she spoke. "We handle everything, from the initial design work to the final delivery and cleanup. Our brides trust us to take care of every detail while they relax and enjoy their special day."

The answer was exactly what she'd expect from a top-notch florist, but her next question was sure to uncover Forget Me Knot's weak spot. "And if a bride wants something really exotic?" She waited for Mildred to prove her right.

"I think the best way to answer that question is to show you our workroom." Mildred led the way between swinging doors to an area where dozens of varieties of flowers crowded immense glass-fronted coolers. "We like to say that this is where the magic happens."

Long wooden worktables filled a space the size of a small gym. Beyond them, colorful ribbons spilled from large reels along the back wall. Vases in every shape and size lined sturdy-looking shelves. At one of the tables, a young man and a woman wrapped satin tape around the base of boutonnieres that featured birds of paradise. Farther down, another pair of workers skillfully assembled lilies, waxy leaves, and frangipani into low centerpieces. The back room smelled like Hawaii and, for a second, Tara could almost see palm trees and women in grass skirts.

"You asked about exotic flowers." Mildred plucked a stem from a cluster of bright red blossoms. "The Garrison wedding is a good example. It has a tropical theme."

Tara nodded. The ceremony was one of three she'd chosen to attend. "This is all pretty amazing," she admitted, "but what if a bride chooses flowers that are out of season? Or impossibly costly?"

Mildred's lips thinned. "I never encourage false expectations. If she has her heart set on heirloom roses, and my suppliers can't get them, or they're out of her budget, I let her know up front. We can usually find a substitute. Once in a while, though, the bride will go somewhere else. In which case, I wish her the best. The important thing, no matter what, is her happiness."

A heaviness draped itself across Tara's shoulders. Discovering the town's Achilles heel might be more difficult than she'd anticipated. She tapped her pen against her notebook. "What was your biggest challenge in the past year?"

"That'd be Jennifer Longley's wedding." Merriment danced in Mildred's eyes while the florist smothered a laugh. "The one she came here to plan. Not the one she ended up having."

Behind her, Jason coughed. Tara's head swiveled. Both Mildred and Jason wore the same amused grins. Her curiosity aroused, she asked, "What set that wedding apart?"

"It started off as a small affair, but the bride kept changing her mind. As it turned out, there was nothing simple about that wedding at all."

"Ooooh, that sounds interesting." Tara cupped her chin. "Tell me more."

"For that, you'll need to talk to Jennifer." Mildred's kind eyes crinkled. "It's her story to tell."

"And where would I find her?" Tara leaned forward, eager to find a chink in the town's united front.

"She's Alicia Thorn's assistant. You met her this morning at the Captain's Cottage. She's Jennifer Bell now."

Tara scribbled a note. "Right. She married the owner of I Do Cakes."

"None other." Jason checked his watch. "In fact, we're headed there next. Are you ready?"

"I think so." She turned to Mildred. "I probably shouldn't say this, but your shop has definitely exceeded my expectations. I love the flower district in New York. I wasn't sure anything could compare with that. But this is pretty special."

As she headed for the door, Tara's lips thinned. The current top wedding destination in the country had a stellar reputation and, from what she'd seen so far, the town deserved it. But with her job and her parents' respect at stake, she couldn't fail in her assignment. She'd find a fatal flaw if she had to turn over every rock in Heart's Landing. She supposed it was too much to ask, but she crossed her fingers and hoped, for her own sake, that something would go terribly wrong before the day was out.

If anything, though, I Do Cakes was even more impressive than the flower shop. She breathed in air thick with the tantalizing scents of sugar and yeast. A pair of glassed-in displays beckoned her to try an array of cakes, cookies, and sweets, each more enticing than the next. Through an archway, tables and chairs tempted shoppers to linger over coffee and pastries in a charming room where large picture windows overlooked the tree-lined street.

Despite the hearty breakfast she'd eaten a scant two hours earlier, Tara's stomach rumbled. She pressed a hand to her midsection as a dark-haired man wearing the traditional chef's whites topped off by a toque blanche emerged into the front of the shop through swinging doors.

"Nick." Beside her, Jason extended his hand in greeting. "I'd like you to meet Tara Stewart, from Weddings Today . Tara, this is Nick Bell."

"On behalf of our staff and all of Heart's Landing, welcome to I Do Cakes," the baker said.

So, this was the man Jennifer Longley had married. Tara raised an eyebrow. Mildred and Jason had dropped a few not-so-subtle hints that, like Regina's, Nick's wedding hadn't gone according to plan. Hoping to ferret out the details, she put out her first feeler. "I understand congratulations are in order. I hear your wedding was quite ‘interesting.'" She framed the last word in air quotes.

"There's never been one like it in the history of Heart's Landing," Nick said with a mysterious smile.

That sounded promising. "I'd love to hear more about it," she prompted, hoping for a juicy tidbit about a wedding gone wrong. "I understand there were quite a few problems leading up to the big day."

"I prefer to think of them as opportunities." Nick grinned. "By overcoming each of those challenges, Jenny and I fell deeper and deeper in love."

"And the ceremony itself?"

Nick's eyes glazed over. "It couldn't have been more perfect. The whole town turned out, including a few unexpected guests."

Hoping to hear about gate-crashers of the worst sort, Tara leaned forward. "Oh?"

"As it turned out, I was marrying into Hollywood royalty—who knew? My wife's cousin and her new husband put in a surprise appearance. They created quite a stir. Me, though? I only had eyes for Jenny. She was the most beautiful bride I'd ever seen. And, in my work, I've seen quite a few." The baker and Jason shared an amused glance.

Seeing the stars in Nick's eyes, Tara admitted defeat. Her line of questioning was getting her nowhere. The baker either deserved an award for his acting skills, or he harbored no dark secrets about his wedding. Maybe she'd have better luck with Jenny. She'd make a point of pressing for details the next time they ran into each other. For now, she'd let the matter drop. "Well, congratulations again. I wish you both much happiness."

"A Heart's Landing love for the ages, that's what we have." Nick nodded. "You've met my wife?"

"This morning at the Captain's Cottage. She sorted through all the details of the weddings scheduled there this week. She was very helpful."

"That's my Jenny. I didn't know what true happiness was until we found each other." Tilting his head, Nick cast a speculative glance in her direction. "Are you married? Or is there someone special in your life?"

She laughed. Newlyweds . They were so wrapped up in wedded bliss, they thought everyone else should be, too. "I'm afraid I haven't met my Mr. Right, Nick. Right now, I'm too busy to even look for him."

The baker's lips pursed. "Don't give up. You never know when you'll run into him."

She was trying to come up with a dry response when Jason's quiet laughter caught her attention. She eyed her host for the day. Mirth tugged at his lips. "What am I missing?" she asked.

"Sorry. That's a little inside joke." Jason aimed a thumb toward the entrance. "Nick and Jenny met when they literally ran into each other right out there on the sidewalk."

"Okay, okay!" Nick threw his hands in the air. "I'm sure Tara has a very busy schedule. She doesn't need to waste her valuable time hearing all about Jenny and me," he grumbled good-naturedly.

Recognizing her cue, she asked, "So, what do you have for me today, Nick?"

The baker squared his shoulders. He pointed to the display cases. "As you can see, we offer our customers quite the selection of baked goods. Everything is prepared from scratch and baked fresh daily on the premises. Of course, cakes are our specialty, and we provide a full range of services to ensure that each of our brides has the perfect cake for their special day."

Somewhere in the back of the shop, a motor hummed to life. The air sweetened until Tara bet she'd taste sugar if she stuck out her tongue. "If your cakes are half as good as they smell, your customers must be pleased."

"We rarely get complaints." Nick beamed.

She liked the way he said it, as if he were merely acknowledging a fact and not bragging.

"Of course, the best way to prove that is to see for yourself. I have samples of our most popular flavors for you to try. Why don't you and Jason take a seat, and we'll have a taste-testing." He pointed toward a trio of alcoves along one wall. Each had been outfitted with banquettes and tables.

"That sounds great," she said, looking forward to finding out firsthand if the bakery's goods were as tasty as the aroma in the air.

Once they were seated on the comfortable cushions, Nick folded his arms across his chest. "I want you to pretend you're the bride, Tara, and Jason is your fiancé. We'll start from there and walk through the same process our clients experience when they arrive at I Do Cakes."

She aimed a doubtful expression at Jason. "Oh, I don't know about that. I'd need to know a lot more about you before I agree to be your wife. Where will we live? Do you want children? How many?" She couldn't prevent the teasing lift in her voice.

The laugh lines around Jason's mouth deepened. Without missing a beat, he rattled off a series of answers. "At the Captain's Cottage. Yes. More than one but less than thirteen."

His willingness to play along eased the tension that had raced across her shoulders the minute Nick had suggested they pretend to be a couple. If Jason was game, so was she. Purely in the name of research, of course. "I'm in," she said.

"Me, too." Jason's grin widened.

"Good." Nick pulled an order sheet from a drawer on his side of the banquette. "The first bit of information I need from every bride and groom is the number of guests they plan on having at the wedding. That number determines how large a cake they'll need. So?"

Tara studied the tabletop. Outside of family, she could count the number of friends she'd invite on her fingers and have a digit or two left over. "Maybe twenty-five?" she ventured.

Beside her, Jason gave his head an emphatic shake. "That'll never do. I grew up in Heart's Landing. Practically everyone in town will expect an invitation to my wedding. I'd say three hundred."

"Oh, no," she protested. She'd faint dead away if she had to walk down the aisle in front of that many people. Just the thought of it made her heart race. "I'm thinking more like a hundred guests. Max."

Jason's brows knitted. "I might be able to shave off fifty, but I'm warning you, my Great-aunt Matilda might never forgive me if I don't invite her to our wedding."

"I'll take my chances." Not that it was much of a risk. She knew full well he didn't have a great-aunt. He and his cousin Evelyn were the last of their line.

"I'll give you that, but I know a lot of people. They'll all want to be there."

"You have that many friends?" She couldn't imagine it, but he sat there, nodding like it was the most normal thing in the world. "I can go as high as one-fifty."

"Ouch! You wound me." Jason pressed a hand to his heart. "Two hundred, and that's as low as I'll go."

Though Jason, with his good looks and charming demeanor, would make a handsome groom, this was just a game. She could afford to give in on the number of guests.

"And there you have it, the first rule in a successful marriage—the art of compromise." Nick smiled broadly. "Okay. We need a cake to serve two hundred guests. Plus attendants and vendors, you're looking at two twenty-five. For that size, we have loads of options, depending on your theme. Did you have something particular in mind?"

Tara relaxed. This was fun, especially since it wasn't the real thing. "I always imagined a summer wedding on the veranda of the Captain's Cottage. I'd have armloads of purple and white hyacinths."

She glanced at Jason to see what he thought, but the man who pretended to be her fiancé only stared at her with a shocked look on his face.

"What?"

"I'm sorry, but we can't fit that many guests on the veranda. We'll have to hold the ceremony in one of the ballrooms. I'd suggest the Green Room. It has the biggest dance floor. Your flowers will look stunning in there." The tiny crow's feet at the corners of his eyes crinkled.

"Tara?" Nick tilted his head to one side while he waited for her answer.

"I suppose we could serve cocktails on the veranda," she ventured, surprised at how difficult it was to let go of her dream, even in a game.

"The roses will be in bloom." Jason's shoe tapped out a warning beat. "The scent will clash with your hyacinths. To say nothing of the colors."

"It sounds like you have another tough choice to make." Nick leaned back in his chair. He held out his hands like a set of scales. "Color?" One hand dipped. "Or venue." He lifted the other one. "Which will it be?"

She thought she'd known what went into planning a wedding. She should have, considering where she worked. But when it came to arranging her own special day—even a pretend one—each decision impacted a hundred others. She tapped her finger to her chin. Jason was right. Red roses and grape hyacinths didn't go together. "What if we erected a tent on the grounds and served cocktails there between the ceremony and the reception? Maybe under the weeping willows?" She'd spotted them when Charlie turned onto the driveway.

"Perfect!" Jason declared.

That wasn't the term she'd use, but the exercise had certainly opened her eyes. Planning a wedding involved a much larger cast than she'd ever imagined. The decision she and Jason made about their pretend head count would affect not just the baker, but everyone from the caterer to the person who arranged the chairs at the reception.

"Now you're getting somewhere." Nick pulled a pad of paper and a pencil from the drawer. "Normally, this is where I'd hand you my portfolio and have you page through pictures of my best work. But in the interest of time, let's assume you want a simple design." He quickly sketched a towering cake with flowers cascading down one side. "Would something like this do?"

Tara smiled. "It's lovely."

"That brings us to the part our brides—and grooms—enjoy the most. The actual taste test." Nick snapped his fingers. As if by magic, the swinging doors popped open, and a parade of apron-clad staff members emerged. Each carried a miniature cake on a silver platter. One by one, Nick's helpers placed their wares on the table and disappeared into the back of the store.

"What we have here," Nick said when every inch of the table had been covered, "are some of our most popular flavors. Let's start with a staple—almond with white buttercream icing. This particular one has a raspberry filling." He cut two slivers and plated them.

Tara eyed her portion. Nestled between the off-white layers, the red center practically glowed. She forked a small bite. The frosting melted in her mouth but not before it awakened all her tastebuds. A divine almond flavor tickled the tip of her tongue. The filling complimented it perfectly. "That's yummy," she declared. "I can see why so many of your customers choose it."

"It's a nice, safe choice," Jason declared after sampling a bite. "Personally, I think I'd like something a little more out of the ordinary."

He was teasing, right? Tara shot a quick glance at the man seated on the banquette. The laughter in Jason's eyes contradicted his serious attitude.

"How about coffee-infused layers separated by a chocolate rum filling and topped with a vanilla bean frosting?" Nick asked. He sliced into the next sample.

Tara hadn't been sure he could improve on the first cake, but her next bite exceeded all her expectations. As a quick burst of intense chocolate faded, rum and coffee lingered on her tongue. She ran her fork through the icing and licked the tines. Sugar crystals melted in her mouth. More, please! She swallowed. "I've never tasted anything quite like this, Nick. Is it your own recipe?"

"This particular combination was my dad's favorite. He opened I Do Cakes over a decade ago. I've been running the place for almost three years."

Though she tried to resist, Tara helped herself to a second bite that turned out to be as delicious as the first. She rubbed her hands together. "What's next?"

Over the next hour, she and Jason worked their way from one end of the table to the other. Though she'd been certain any number of bakeries in New York would outshine I Do Cakes, she couldn't recall a single one that offered a buttercream frosting as luscious as Nick's. Fillings that ranged from sweet to savory tempted her to linger over each bite. And that wasn't all. She'd walked into the shop convinced that no one could make a pecan cake better than her mom's. Nick's, though, packed so much dense flavor into each light and airy layer, she couldn't imagine how he'd done it.

"There you have it," the baker announced after she and Jason had narrowed their choices to their absolute favorites. "Working together, you've created the perfect, one-of-a-kind cake for your wedding."

Tara felt her cheeks heat. She should never have participated in the taste test. One bite of that first sample had robbed her of the ability to write a single negative word about I Do Cakes. Not that she'd found anything to complain about. The shop had been absolute perfection, from the moment she'd stepped across the threshold and heard the cheery bell over the door.

At this rate, she'd return to New York singing the praises of Heart's Landing. Which wouldn't get her the promotion she deserved. It would only get her fired. Something that wouldn't earn her parents' respect at all. She clenched her teeth. With only one more store to visit this morning, her chances of finding anything wrong were diminishing quickly. She gulped. At their next stop, she'd have to be more careful about remaining impartial. Judgmental, even.

On the sidewalk outside I Do Cakes, Jason inclined his head to hers. "The Memory Box is a block down and left on Honeymoon Avenue. Do you mind walking?"

Despite a renewed determination to remain cool and distant, she couldn't get snippy with him. He didn't deserve it. She patted her tummy. "After all that sugar, a walk sounds like a very good idea."

With Jason in the lead, they made their way down the shady sidewalk, past store windows filled with tempting displays of items ranging from chocolates to dressy dresses. At Bow Tie Pasta, the tantalizing odor of onions and garlic floated in the air. Tara inhaled deeply. "That smell reminds me of the dinner you ordered last night. Did it come from here?"

"It did. Wait till you go there in person. It's a great place to hold a rehearsal dinner."

"Humph." She reached for her newfound determination. She'd be the judge of that. "I don't eat out much, but when I do, there's the perfect little place less than a block from my apartment. Red-and-white checkered tablecloths. Chianti bottles for candle holders."

A memory of the creamy goodness of the Bow Tie's alfredo sauce tickled her tongue. At dinner, she'd savored every bite of her lasagna. Her shoulders rounded in defeat. Who was she kidding? "Honestly, I always thought the atmosphere at Anthony's was authentic, but the food doesn't compare with what we had last night."

"Not every restaurant can find that perfect balance of service, atmosphere, and taste," Jason said with far more understanding than she'd expected. "Not in Boston. Or even in New York. But you like it in the city?"

"I love it," she said, thinking of all her favorite places. "Taking the Staten Island Ferry past the Statue of Liberty. Stopping for dim sum in Chinatown. Walking through Rockefeller Center. Times Square—though it should be old hat by now, I still get a thrill every time I see myself on the big monitors." She could stand in front of the cameras for fifteen minutes at a time while she waved to the crowds with one hand and kept a firm grip on her purse strap with the other.

"I sense a but in there somewhere."

How did he know what she was thinking before she did? Yes, there was a "but," as in, but with all the hours she was putting in at work these days, she didn't get to enjoy much of living in the city. Could she admit that to Jason? Something in the tilt of his head, the interest that flickered in his gray eyes urged her to confide in him.

"It's, um, more—much more—than I anticipated. More crowded. More hectic. More expensive. Especially that. I'm still living in the fifth-floor walk-up I moved into when I first arrived. My whole apartment could fit inside my parents' bedroom closet. There's no air-conditioning, and the heat is a joke. Before I moved to New York, I'd built up a nice nest egg. I've had to dip into it just to make ends meet. I'm not sure how much longer I can live there if I don't get this promotion I'm up for."

"Well, I'll keep my fingers crossed that you get it. You love what you do, don't you?"

That part she didn't have to hide. "From the first time I saw a copy of Weddings Today , I've dreamed of covering celebrity weddings and helping brides make the right choices. It's just that, well, there have been too many days when going on a coffee run for the senior editors was the most important contribution I made to the magazine." She clamped her mouth shut. She absolutely would not tell him she'd been doing exactly that as recently as last week.

"It's tough starting out. Especially in a creative field. It'll be worth the sacrifices you're making now, though, when you get that big promotion."

"I wasn't sure I'd make it until Regina gave me this assignment. This could change everything for me." And Heart's Landing.

"Everyone here is going to help you with that," Jason said. "Ever since my great-grandmother glided down the circular staircase of the Captain's Cottage to marry into the Rockefeller clan in a wedding that turned the socialites of the day misty-eyed, our town has been a premier wedding destination. Today, we're doing everything we can to maintain that position. You're not going to find one thing to mark us down on, and when you turn in your report at the end of your stay, your bosses will agree that you've done a great job."

If he only knew. The problem with his plan was that in order to please her boss, she'd have to dig up some dirt on Heart's Landing or destroy the myth the town was built on. Both were tasks she looked forward to less and less with each step she took on the tree-lined sidewalk. If her career was the only thing at stake, she might have a different perspective. But having her own byline would go a long way toward making her parents see that she'd chosen the right career, and that made whatever she had to do worthwhile. She simply couldn't let herself get attached to the town.

Or Jason. Especially not him. Firming her shoulders, along with her resolve, she was determined to reach her goal.

Soon, Jason's footsteps slowed to a stop beside another intriguing window display. On the other side of the glass, a lacy blue garter dangled from a mannequin's hand over an intricately carved wooden box. Wedding invitations, reply cards, church programs, and a bouquet of dried flowers spilled from the box to puddle in artful disarray on a low table.

"Helen's store specializes in storage boxes for wedding memorabilia," Jason explained, "though I suppose you could use them for other purposes, too. Want to take a look inside?"

"I've always loved pretty containers," she answered with a sigh. She'd begun collecting any that caught her eye when she was in grade school. Her favorites were stacked in the closet of her old bedroom in her parents' house.

"Then you're sure to like these. They're one-of-a-kind creations." Ever the gentleman, Jason held the door for her.

Where bakery products had crowded the shelves of Nick's display case and flowers had been everywhere she looked at Forget Me Knot, here, only a handful of boxes had been artfully arranged on display stands. Recessed spotlights highlighted intricate carvings that covered the sides and lids. On one, a bride and groom toasted each other with champagne flutes. Another featured a horse-drawn carriage.

Jason's long strides led the way to the counter where a young woman stood. He made the standard introductions, and Tara shook hands with Helen Berger, the co-owner of The Memory Box.

"I must say, I've never seen anything quite like these." Tara ran one finger along the edge of a box lined with velvet. The workmanship was every bit as good as some of the pieces she'd seen on display in New York art studios. "These are exquisite. I want to buy one, and I'm not even getting married."

"B-brides do buy m-most of our boxes," Helen admitted with a charming stutter. "We have a wide variety of patterns you can choose from, or we'll help you design something perfect, j-just for you." She walked over to one that featured a chubby-cheeked baby. "S-see?"

Tara's midsection tightened. For an instant, she pictured herself cuddling a baby with Jason's gray eyes and dark hair. She blinked the image away. All that talk of weddings back at I Do Cakes had addled her mind. Much as she wanted a family of her own, she hadn't even started looking for her Mr. Right. Whoever he turned out to be, it wouldn't be Jason. Her current assignment would see to that.

She wrenched her gaze away from the carving. She needed to focus on the task at hand if she had any hope of getting ahead at Weddings Today . "Where do you get all these?" she asked, hoping Helen would admit she stocked cheap imports.

"My brother starts with oak or black walnut and hand-carves each exterior panel. Once he's satisfied, he and my dad stain the pieces and treat them to several layers of protective polyurethane. After that, they assemble the units. Mom adds the lining. She also handles our website."

"A family business." She could relate to that. Her sisters were very much involved in her dad's restaurant. "And you run this wonderful shop." Tara gestured to the attractive displays, the muted wall colors.

"Yes." Helen smiled. While they chatted, her slight stutter had eased until it was barely noticeable.

"How's business?" She glanced around the empty shop. No brides or grooms browsed the aisles. Why was that?

"Excellent. For custom designs, we have a three-month waiting list. While most of our orders come through our website, we get a fair amount of walk-in customers. The weekends are usually pretty busy."

Tara's fingers itched to trace the carved drawings. To keep them busy, she flipped open her notebook. While Jason stood in the corner quietly talking on his cell phone, she asked the first question on her list. "What do you do when someone isn't happy with their purchase?"

Helen bit her lip. "We take precautions to make sure that doesn't happen. Every customer approves a series of drawings before Brett, my brother, carves the first notch. He sends them photographs of the work in progress. It's rare for someone to be unhappy with the final product, b-but, I won't lie to you—it d-does happen. On those occasions, we give them their choice of a full refund or having us start from scratch with a new design."

Tara had never heard of such a generous return policy for a custom item. With a sigh, she closed her notebook and slipped it into her purse. She wouldn't waste any more time looking for problems in The Memory Box. The store, like everything else she'd seen in Heart's Landing, was utterly delightful.

She smothered a groan. It was beginning to look like her only hope of getting a promotion lay in uncovering some terrible truth about Captain Thaddeus.